The Cooking Competition
by Hogan'sHeroesFan
Summary: Mister Ed decides he wants to cook to enter a cooking competition the town is having.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note: I don't own any of the characters in Mister Ed, though I wish I did. This is my first Mister Ed story, so please review. I'm very surprised at the number of Mister Ed stories on here (One, besides this) so I decided to go ahead and write my own. Here goes!  
And thanks to RealityRelief, for posting the first review. (And in regard to the issue you pointed out, it probably would be, but the first chapter of my story kind of hinges on that. :)**_

Wilbur whistled as he headed to the out to the barn, but he stopped short when he heard a call.

"Wilbur!"

He turned and headed back into the house and found Carol dusting the furniture.

"Good morning, honey," Wilbur said as he gave her a kiss.

Carol returned the embrace, then looked Wilbur in the face. "Why were you going out to the barn without saying good morning to me first?"

"Well..." Wilbur struggled for the right words. "Ed..."

Carol frowned. "It's that horse again. Sometimes I think you love him more than you do me," she complained.

"Oh, that's not true. I love you just as much as I do him-" Wilbur said, but then he corrected himself upon seeing Carol's shocked and disapproving face. "-more than I do him."

Carol smiled. "I'm willing to accept that," she kissed Wilbur again.

"Well, I'll just head out to the barn now," he said, after the second kiss.

He turned and headed out to the barn, but a call stopped him.

"Wilbur!"

* * *

A few minutes later, Mr. Ed, who was in his stall, realized that Wilbur was late. He had told Wilbur the night before that he wanted Wilbur out to the barn at exactly 7:00 am. He started to call the house, but before he could, the barn door opened and Wilbur came in.

"Morning, Ed," Wilbur greeted, as he closed the door behind him.

"You're late," Ed responded.

"Sorry, Ed, but Carol detained me," he frowned, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his face.

Ed chuckled. "I can see that. You still have lipstick on your left cheek."

Wilbur waved off the comment and opened up Ed's stall door. "Now, Ed, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Who said anything about talking? I wanted you to get me my carrots at exactly 7:00. It is now," Ed paused and looked at his alarm clock. "It is now 7:05."

Wilbur did a double take at Ed. "You made me get up early just to get you your carrots? You usually don't have to have your carrots at exactly 7:00." Nevertheless, he grabbed Ed's carrots and gave them to the Palomino.

Ed turned to Wilbur. "I'm on a schedule," he pointed to a piece of paper hanging on the wall under his mirror. "Besides, 7:00 isn't really early," he pointed out.

"I _was_ planning on sleeping until 7:30," Wilbur picked up Ed's brush and picked some hairs out of it. "And you don't need a schedule. You get along fine the way you already do things: eat, sleep, eat, sleep, and eat and sleep some more."

Ed let Wilbur brush his back. "You'll like my schedule better. It goes: 6:45, wake up. 7:00, eat carrots. 7:10, get brushed. 7:30, go riding. 12:00, eat. 12:30, sleep. 2:00, go riding. 5:00, eat..."

"Hold it, Ed," Wilbur stopped brushing Ed and grabbed Ed's halter to pull his head away from the chart on the wall.

"What's the matter, buddy boy?" Ed avoided eye contact.

"When am I going to have time to do my work?" he asked, pointedly.

Ed tried to turn his head back to the wall. "Well... uh... when I'm sleeping. Between the 12:30 and 2:00 time slot."

Wilbur shook his head. "One hour and thirty minutes for work? Ed, are you crazy? That money that comes from my job is what buys you these carrots. It's what..."

Ed cut him off. "Okay, okay. I get the point. What do you want me to do? Re-arrange the schedule so that I get more sleep time and you get more work time?"

Wilbur glared at Ed. "NO. I want you to quit your schedule. Like I said before, you get along fine without it," Wilbur put the brush away and started toward his desk.

Ed followed Wilbur out of the stall. "Alright, I'll quit the schedule on one condition."

Wilbur seated himself and grabbed a pencil. "What's that?" he asked, absently.

"I want to learn how to cook."


	2. Chapter 2

Wilbur turned to stare at Ed.

"You want to WHAT?"

Ed flicked his tail. "I want to cook."

Wilbur tossed his paper that he had worked on back down on his desk. "Ed, horses cannot cook."

"Horses aren't supposed to talk either, but what am I doing now?"

"Talk... Oh, Ed. Listen, there's no way you could cook. In order to cook you have to use hands. You do not have hands," Wilbur looked flustered.

"Well... uh... I could use my mouth," Ed proposed, brightening.

"That won't work, Ed. Besides, what got you on this 'cooking kick' anyway?" Wilbur asked.

"This," Ed turned, walked back into his stall, and emerged a moment later with a newspaper. "The town is having a cooking competition tomorrow at the fair, and I want to enter it. The prize is $25. That could buy me 50 bales of hay, or about 100 carrots."

"Hey, let me see that. Maybe Carol would like to enter," Wilbur took the paper and studied the article.

Ed looked hopeful. "Can I enter too?"

"No, Ed. That is final. You are not going to enter this and you are not going to cook," With that, Wilbur got up from his seat, and taking the paper with him, left the barn.

Ed watched him leave, then turned to stare at his stall. "Humph. I'm going to find some way to enter that contest and win that money. No matter what he says."

* * *

Wilbur walked through the glass door and toward the kitchen, thinking about what Ed had said. A horse cooking! Outrageous. Though he had thought that Ed couldn't drive, and he had been mistaken. Ed could drive, albeit recklessly.

He found Carol in the kitchen, preparing his breakfast.

"Carol, look at this," he said, pointing at the contest announcement.

Carol turned to study the paper. "A cooking contest?"

Wilbur nodded. "And the prize is $25 dollars."

Carol placed the bacon she was frying on a plate and glanced back at the paper. "That $25 would be nice to have," she admitted, setting Wilbur's breakfast in front of him at the table.

Wilbur tasted it. "Boy, honey, you could win the contest with this pancake recipe. Where did you get it?" he wondered.

Carol laughed. "Kaye gave it to me," she thought for a moment. "It's that good, huh?"

Wilbur nodded. "It's delicious," he said, savoring every bite.

"Then will you come down to the store with me so I can get more ingredients?" Carol asked Wilbur, delighted.

"Of course, honey," Wilbur assured her.

* * *

At the Addison's, Roger had just noticed the add in the paper. At first, he had just glanced over it, not being the least bit interested in cooking; but upon seeing the $25 reward for first place announcement, that had got his attention. He got an idea about him earning that prize.

* * *

Mister Ed watched Wilbur and Carol drive away before plodding into their house and to the kitchen. "Heh, Heh. Wilbur doesn't think I can cook, huh? Well, he'll see," he smugly said to himself, before turning toward Carol's recipe box.

**Chapter 3 coming soon.**

**This story is indefinetly on hold until I finish my Hogan's Heroes story, "Boom Time." I will definetly finish "The Cooking Competition," though. Please be patient with me. **


End file.
